


Inertia

by AnotherWorld3111



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Castiel is an understanding saint, M/M, Post-Stanford, Reunions, Suspicious Dean Winchester, Wary Dean Winchester, that needs to be a tag
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-05
Updated: 2019-01-05
Packaged: 2019-10-05 02:20:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,830
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17316230
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnotherWorld3111/pseuds/AnotherWorld3111
Summary: “Sir?” Madison peeked in. “I have a couple of federal agents here to see you in regards to the Wilson case?”“Of course. Send them in.”As soon as she was gone, Sam groaned, trying to regain his composure before he had to face the government. Glancing at the photo on his desk, he immediately felt his chest lighten.He stroked the picture softly, his heart softening at the sight of Jess holding a squirming Harley in her arms.With a much lighter heart, Sam turned to his door, prepared to face the agents, just as it opened.Sam’s heart stopped.“Mr. Winchester,” Dean greeted, all formal and professional. “Special Agent Plant."





	Inertia

**Author's Note:**

> so Sam was supposed to have a one year old son and this was supposed to be much longer and Sam and dean's talk was supposed to be written out with Sam confronting Dean bout his and cas's relationship and stuff but like...   
> ive got 6 other fics waiting to be finished, soooo i cut this short?  
> all mistakes are mine and mine only, you guys cant have them *shoos y'all away*

Sam stared at the papers in front of him with no small amount of confusion covering his features. Exhaling, he pinched the bridge of his nose as he picked up one of the papers, only to get stuck looking at the paper under it. With a groan, Sam dropped the paper, pushing away from his desk as he rubbed his hands over his face.

A soft knock on his office door had Sam pulling his hands away. “Sir?” Madison peeked in, the small smile on her face unable to disguise the concerned expression in her eyes. “I have a couple of federal agents here to see you in regards to the Wilson case?”

Ah. Right. The bane of Sam Winchester’s existence. He glared down at the papers in front of him before wiping the look off as he sighed up at Madison.

“Of course.” He said, his voice courteous and at complete odds with how he was truly feeling at the moment. “Send them in.”

With a nod, Madison disappeared, the door closing behind her as she presumably left to fetch the agents. 

The actual FBI, oh god. Sam groaned again, dragging his hands through his hair, trying to regain his composure before he had to face the government. Well, the government above him. Glancing at the photo on his desk, he immediately felt his chest lighten, which helped ease the smile a lot more smoothly onto his face. 

He stroked the picture softly, his heart softening at the sight of Jess holding a squirming Harley in her arms. Both his own face and Jess’s were nonetheless laughing as they looked at their dog, and to this day, the memory didn’t fail to make Sam smile.

With a much lighter heart, Sam turned to his door, prepared to face the agents, just as it opened.

Madison strode in, holding the door open for the two dark haired agents who entered. Their heads were bowed down, visibly muttering something to each other, before they straightened right as they approached Sam’s desk.

Sam’s heart stopped.

It may have been around… eight years since Sam had seen him last, but there was no denying who it was in front of him even after all these years.

For his part, Dean was a lot more composed than Sam, the only sign that he recognized his brother was a momentary widening of his eyes, his mouth working for a second, before a smooth mask slid over his face.

“Mr. Winchester,” Dean greeted, all formal and professional. “Special Agent Plant,” He took out a badge, flipping it open quickly before tucking it back in his pocket. Sam didn’t need to look at it to know that it would look as official as any legit badge would, but he still couldn’t help but wonder why Dean was even bothering… “And this is Special Agent Page,” he gestured to the man beside him, and at the name, the man jumped, finally removing his piercing gaze from Sam  so as to look down into his trenchcoat as he grabbed his own badge. He flipped it open, outstretching it to Sam, and he almost went cross eyed when he glanced at it.

And then did a double take. 

Rolling his eyes, Dean reached forward, grabbing the badge and flipping it right side up before letting the man hold it again. “Sorry,” Dean apologized, but he was still looking at the other man, his eyebrows pointedly raised. “He’s new.”

And even Sam could hear how rehearsed that sounded. He didn’t have to be in the business anymore to figure out when Dean was lying, and Sam liked to think that he didn’t need to use his skills as a lawyer to be able to figure out his brother either.

“Right.” Sam cleared his throat, nodding just as Dean and his…hunting partner, Sam realized with a tight feeling in his throat, sat down in front of him. And that’s when he realized Madison was still standing patiently near the door. Oh, now things made sense. 

He looked at her in acknowledgement, and she nodded, finally letting herself out.

The moment the door shut firmly, Sam’s head snapped towards Dean so fast, he was surprised that he hadn’t accidentally given himself a sprain.

“Dean,” Sam whispered, the name he hadn’t dared to think he’d ever utter to the man himself anytime soon. “What the hell are you doing here?”

The mask of the federal agent dropped, only to be replaced with something more smoother and impersonal, even as Dean started to slouch in his chair, practically sprawled out on the furniture. “Cas and I,” He tilted his head to the man beside him. “Found a case, thought we’d check it out.” He drawled. “I admit, didn’t think it was gonna be you handling the papers we needed. Would have let Cas deal with you instead, but I’m still trying to help him figure out the ropes.”

Sam didn’t take his eyes off of his brother. “Would have let– What the hell are you talking about?” Sam hissed, leaning forward in his chair. “What do you mean, handling the papers you needed?”

Dean raised his eyebrows, looking unimpressed. Sam ignored how the flames of annoyance soared within him at that… for now. “Man, I know it’s been years so I figured you’d get some leeway for being sloppy… but seriously, Sam? Can’t even tell when there’s a hunt under your nose,” Dean tsked, shaking his head. He lifted his arms, letting them drop on the chair’s armrests. “The Wilson’s case,” He eventually said, gesturing to the papers still in front of Sam with his chin. “I’m betting their numbers look all screwed over? One plus one either coming up in the high hundred or a seriously negative number?” Dean said knowingly. “Witches, Sam. Witches.”

Sam leaned back, raising an eyebrow skeptically. “Okay, fine.” He inhaled deeply. “Why do you need their tax papers for that?” 

Beside Dean, the man – Cas, let out a small scoff, but he stayed silent even though Sam glanced at him. Dean was smirking as well, however, when Sam turned back to him. But his eyes still held no traces of warmth, and Sam could feel the chill spreading through his body at the look in his brother’s eyes being trained on him.

“Why do you need to know?” Dean countered.

Sam reeled. 

All this time, he was aware of how distant Dean was, and while he couldn’t fault his brother – eight years was a long time, especially in the world that Sam was keen to leave behind – but the man sitting in front of him… held no traces of the warm, welcoming brother Sam used to look up to.

No. Instead, in his place, was a cold jaded man, guarded and shut off from Sam, treating him as if Sam was just any other civilian… some random official just standing in the way of solving Dean’s case.

“Dean,” Sam started softly, only to stop. For the first time in his life, Sam had no idea what to say.

“Sam,” The other man spoke, his deep voice breaking Sam out of his reverie. For a while, he had completely forgotten that it wasn’t just him and the man that Sam could once call his brother in the room, so it took Sam only the briefest of seconds to reorient himself. “The tax papers hold some crucial evidence that will help lead us to the leader of this particular brand’s coven. We have come to the conclusion,” Cas tilted his head towards Dean in a sign of unity that had a moment of jealousy clenching Sam’s stomach. “That the only reason the witches are able to dodge their financial issues is the same way they’ve been getting through their other situations – by the help of their leader. So if you would allow us to look through the papers, we will be able to get the information we need and can soon be out of your hair.”

Dean scoffed harshly. “Yeah. You won’t have to ever remember that we were here, or deal with us again.”

“That is it.” Sam slammed his hands on his desk, pushing himself upright. The abrupt action had Dean’s eyes widening, his mask slipping momentarily, and Sam would have relished in it had he not caught himself off guard as well. “What is  _ up  _ with you, Dean? We haven’t seen each other in years, and yeah, I get that shit happens in the job, but c’mon, man! Where’s the brother I thought I knew?” He exclaimed. Only for Dean to push himself up as well.

“The brother you knew?” Dean let out a harsh laugh. “Oh, believe me, Sam. You have no idea – you know  _ nothing  _ about the man standing in front of you, Sam. Nothing.” 

And with that, he turned around, the chair harshly falling to the ground as Dean thoughtlessly pushed past it. His reaction had rendered Sam frozen in shock, but it was Cas starting to get up as well that jolted Sam back into action.

“Wait!” Sam started to move around his desk, feeling absolutely clumsy as he bumped into the furniture more harshly than he’d been expecting, the photo frame falling. He still managed to catch up with Dean just as he started to twist the door knob open, but Sam’s hand landing on his shoulder was enough to still Dean.

“Okay, look. We just – we obviously started off on the wrong foot here. Man, c’mon. Start over?” He tried for an appeasing smile as Dean looked back at him, and Sam found himself genuinely holding his breath, waiting apprehensively for Dean’s reply. It took too long, but after an agonizingly long amount of time of making Sam wait, Dean clenched his jaw, and nodded.

Sam watched, his head feeling oddly light when he realized relief was bubbling up within him, as Dean’s hand lowered from the knob.

Swallowing, Sam stepped back hesitantly, almost bumping into Cas. For his part, Cas just stood there quietly, seemingly content to just watch everything unfold in front of him without stepping in. 

“Okay. Tax papers, right.” Sam nodded, exhaling deeply. Going back to his desk, he picked up the papers on his desk, the very ones that was apparently the root of today’s situation. He easily held it out to Dean.

Eyebrows raised, Dean leaned forward to take it, turning it around to start reading. After a while of frowning at it, Dean shook his head, handing it to Cas. He didn’t turn to look at Sam once, instead, training his eyes on Cas as he mumbled something too low for Sam to catch. Cas flipped through a few of the pages, not saying anything until he suddenly nodded at Dean, coming forward to return the papers back to Sam.

“Thank you for your cooperation, Sam.” Cas said, and just like that, the two turned around, clearly ready to leave again.

“Woah, wait–wait, what?” Sam exclaimed. “You guys are gonna leave, just like that?” He stated, when Dean turned to look at Sam with no small amounts of impatience.

“Yeah. In case you didn’t get it the first time around, we’ve got a witch to catch?”

And Sam got that, he really did. Except, he wasn’t too willing to let go of his brother just yet, not after getting to see him after so long. So that was pretty much the only reasoning behind his next sentence when Sam stood up decisively, stating firmly, “I’m coming with.”

At any other circumstance, Sam would have found the expression he was met with to be a lot more comical than he did. As expected, Dean backtracked, blanching at Sam before glancing at Cas, as if checking with the other man to make sure he’d heard right. Cas didn’t look fazed at all, Sam starting to think that he didn’t have any other expression except from the default setting of neutral poker face. 

“You-you’re coming with,” Dean repeated dumbly. “You’re-no.  _ No.” _ He repeated vehemently, now looking completely bewildered. “What part of witch hunting did you not hear, Sam? _ Hunting.  _ You know, the life you wanted to get out of, and did?” Dean took a step forward, his eyes narrowing – not in distrust as much as confusion. “Pardon me if I’m a little slow on the uptake here, Sam, but you gotta understand why I don’t get why you suddenly want to be a part of the game again.”

“Not–look. You guys are in town, hunting down one of my clients. So why shouldn’t I tag along? Besides, as my client, we’ll have easier access in anyway, so you won’t have to sneak around too much.” Sam raised his eyebrows, shrugging. “It’s a win-win situation.”

“Yeah, but what’s in it for you?” Dean shot back suspiciously.

Sam swallowed. There wasn’t anything else he could do except shoot for a partial truth here. “I just wanna stick around with you guys, just as long as you’re here. Is that so bad?”

However, the suspicion didn’t fade from Dean’s eyes. “Yeah, Sam. It actually is.”

* * *

The car ride to their destination was awkwardly silent, to say the least. Sam was sitting in the backseat, discontent curdling his guts as he noticed how easily cas was sitting up front with Dean. Cas didn’t seem to be as disturbed by the silence as Sam was, but Sam couldn’t exactly tell how his brother felt. Which only added to the turmoil within him, a reminder of all the years that had gone by, leaving Dean a practical stranger rather than the close brothers they used to be to Sam.

“This is such a bad idea,” Dean muttered from behind him to Cas. Sam pretended not to hear as Cas shushed Dean for him. The door opened just as Dean grumbled something back, his reply gone unheard as a woman peeked out from behind the door. 

“Mr. Winchester?” She peered behind Sam curiously. “May I help you?”

Ignoring Cas mumbling something to Dean, Sam smiled courteously. “Evening, Ms. Wilson. Mind if we come in?” 

Ms. Wilson glanced once more at Cas and Dean, distrust and suspicion clear in her gaze, but she eventually opened the door further, allowing them inside. 

No sooner had the door closed behind them did Dean dart forward, grabbing Ms. Wilson’s arms from behind, easily restraining her. 

“This is for Carey.” He hissed in her ear, and Cas strode past Sam, a hand extended. Sam didn’t get the chance to do more than yell out, but Cas was already placing his hand on Ms. Wilson’s forehead. Ms. Wilson opened her mouth in a scream, but Sam could only stare, entranced as light flooded out from her mouth and eyes. Bright and blinding, Sam was forced to look away, his heart thudding in his chest, until the light wasn’t threatening to blind him despite his eyes being closed. 

Looking up, Sam stared in shock as Ms. Wilson’s corpse fell to the ground, her eyes charred and still smoking.

“What,” he breathed out, shock leaving him voiceless. “The hell.”

Dean looked at Sam, eyebrows raised, unimpressed. “Witch. Murdered a bunch of kids. So we came in and ganked her.” He stated, and started to bend down, dragging Ms. Wilson further into the house by her shoulders. 

“Wait, no–” he threw his hand out, trying to stop Dean from running away again, only to come face to face with Cas.

Who just killed a witch with his bare hand. And who Sam didn’t think was a human. 

Sam immediately reared back, stumbling on the thick rug and almost falling, catching himself at the last second. “What the hell are you?” He demanded, just as Dean came back from wherever he’d hidden Ms. Wilson’s body.

“Sam, meet Castiel, former angel of the lord, currently my partner. Castiel, say goodbye to my estranged brother.” Clapping a hand on Cas’s shoulder, he started to make his way to the front door, leaving Cas–Cas _ tiel  _ – to tilt his head, narrowing his eyes at Sam.

Sam swallowed. Saying he was uncomfortable at that moment having this creature’s full focus on him would have been a severe understatement. Thankfully, the sound of the front door opening, followed by Dean’s, “C’mon, Cas,” was enough to tear Castiel’s eyes away from Sam. With one last narrow-eyed look at Sam, Castiel made to follow Dean out of the house.

Sam was left standing in the middle of Ms. Wilson’s foyer, going dizzy with the events of the past few minutes. He only just managed to shake himself out of his reverie in time to bound out of the house and watch, helpless, as the Impala tore out of the house’s driveway.

* * *

It didn’t take Sam long to find the motel where Cas and Dean were staying. His parking job was more than a little sloppy as he barely turned the engine off, slamming the car door behind him as he strode to the room Dean was in. Pounding on the door relentlessly, Sam grit his teeth as he impatiently waited. At the last second, he remembered that Castiel was most likely in there as well, and could just as easily be the one to open the door, and the thought had Sam finally halting abruptly. It was too late anyway though, because the door was already swinging open.

Thankfully, it opened to reveal Dean, half naked. Sam, mouth already open, stopped and blanched at the bright red handprint on Dean’s bicep. 

“Jesus,” Dean muttered. “Yeah, sure, come on in.” He grabbed Sam’s coat, undoubtedly rumpling it in the process, but that was the furthest thing from Sam’s mind as he found himself pulled into the motel room, the door locking behind him. 

“Uh.” And not for the first time that day, Sam found himself blinking stupidly as he watched Castiel walk out of the bathroom with only a towel wrapped around his waist. 

“Oh, for the love of—” walking to the only double bed in the room, Dean roughly steeped some clothes into his arm, bundling it up and shoving it into Castiel’s arms with s few mumbled words that Sam couldn’t hear. 

He wasn’t sure he would have wanted to know what was being said anyway, once he noticed the finger shaped bruises on Dean’s hips, peeking out from under the loose waistband of Dean’s sweatpants Sam never knew his brother was even capable of owning. 

Looking up, Sam thought with a sort of detached bewilderment he saw Castiel actually  _ pout, _ before he turned around anyway, clothes bundled up in his arms as he disappeared back into the bathroom.

Watching the door shut, Sam took in his brother from his peripherals. Dean exhaled, a hand coming up to pinch the bridge of his nose before he let his hand drop to his side, turning to face Sam. 

“What’re you doing here, Sam?” He asked dully, though his face was no less impassive as he crossed his arms, the handprint a stark contrast to the rest of his pale skin. 

“I—answers.” Sam said intelligently. He cleared his throat. “I figured I deserved some answers before you blew out of town.” Somehow, he managed to make it come across sounding more confident and self assured than he really felt at that moment. 

Dean’s eyebrows sky rocketed. “Deserve?” He repeated. “I don’t see how we owe you anything. We didn’t ask you to tag along, you know.”

Sam grit his teeth, inhaling forcefully. “Yeah. But I did, and the next thing I know, your ‘ _ hunting partner’ _ is lighting a witch up like a Halloween prop. What the hell, Dean!” Sam exclaimed, throwing his hands up in the air, losing his composure in the process. He plowed on anyway, too far gone in his rant to notice or care. “What kind of creature — you can’t expect me to believe that he’s, what, an actual angel?” Sam let out a humorless laugh, cruelly relishing in the wince it finally elicited from Dean. “Seriously, Dean? Angels don’t fucking exist. Jesus, I should have tested — are you even my brother, or are you under a spell or some sort of enchantment?”

Dean stared blandly at Sam. “You done?” He asked flatly. When Sam only continued to clench his jaw against a fresh surge of unexplainable anger, Dean nodded. “Yeah, that’s what I thought too, you know. Surely angels couldn’t exist, right? I mean, demons are one thing, Satan another, but apparently he’s out there, in a cage actually, and prefers Lucifer.” Uncrossing his arms, Dean leaned against the bed. “So yeah, Lucifer is real. So are angels, but they’re all grade A dicks. Except for Cas here,” he tilted his head to the still closed bathroom door. “He’s been gracious enough to see and embrace the whole humanity thing, helped Bobby and I on some cases, sticks with me for the most part. Under his own will, you know, as part of the whole ‘free will’ thing. So, to answer the question at the end of that completely unjustified venting session of yours, no. I’m not under a spell, or ‘some sort of enchantment.’ And if you still don’t trust us, well. Bobby’s number hasn’t changed. In the meantime, door’s right there.”

Sam stared. He felt strangely blank, robbed of words and even thoughts in the face of how utterly distant his brother was. 

This was supposed to be the man who’d taken care of Sam since he was six months old, and now… now, Dean was looking at him like he just — like he just expected Sam to walk away, enough said and done. As if Dean was just waiting for Sam to wipe his hands of them again. 

Like he’d already done once before, Sam realized. His brother was waiting for Sam to leave them, just like he did when he was eighteen and wanting the luxuries of a normal life, to return to those luxuries now. 

The tax papers waiting for Sam at his office, his perfect house with the front lawn trampled by Harley being chased around by a laughing Jess, the white picket fence, the neighbors who always waved at Sam when he went for his morning jog, the fresh pressed suits and the ability to walk into a high class restaurant and feel like he wasn’t out of place, no matter how much he felt like he didn’t truly belong — none of it struck Sam as appealing enough to walk away for a second, and what he suspected would be a final time, in the face of his resigned, war-weary brother. 

“No.” Sam tucked his hands into his pockets. “I’m not going anywhere. Not until you give me more answers yourself, at least.”

And going by the extreme look of surprise on Dean’s face at Sam’s refusal to leave… Sam felt like maybe, maybe he could stay for longer than just to get some answers with his brother. 


End file.
